Scene of the Crime
by Sparkling Sugarcane
Summary: Ralph and the others return to the island for old times' sake. Anna tags along too, in hopes of learning more about what happened to Simon twenty-one years ago... Also: Roger's up to his old sadistic tricks again? Implied Ralph/Jack, Percival/OC.


a/n: Hey everybody! Just to let you know, this is the sequel work to "Fatefully Coincidental", and you will understand this story a lot better if you read that one first.  
But for those of you that must read this one now: Anna is a character I introduced. She's Simon's younger sister. More background on her in the first story.  
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTF. I only own Anna.

Scene of the "Crime"

The April breeze gently played with Ralph's fair hair as he made his way down to the dock. The suitcase he carried was of a good size, but not too heavy for him to carry easily. Squinting, Ralph could see the familiar head of stark red hair against the quiet blue of the ocean. Glad that Jack had gotten his letter, he quickened his pace.

The others were there too, of course, all bearing luggage similar to Ralph's and all with the same nervous-but-optimistic look on their faces.

"Glad you made it," said Jack.

"We almost thought you'd—"

"—miss the boat," chortled Samneric.

"That'd be a pity," Jack continued, "seeing as how you were the driving force behind this trip anyway. Only you would think to call the BBC and ask where those fishermen found the bloody island." He laughed a bit.

Ralph chuckled along. For such a landmark day in his thirty-three years of life, he spoke remarkably little. "So…I guess this is everyone—"

"Wait," Percival interjected. "We're just waiting on one more."

"No, it looks like we've got everyone. Even Roger." Maurice nodded towards the wiry, fierce figure hunched near the edge, smiling formally, eyes darting from side to side. Roger had been released after finishing his prison term, and had subsequently taken up every art and craft known to mankind to keep himself busy. He presently possessed a quality of unsettling calm, of that feeling people could never quite seem to put their finger on.

"Unless—" Ralph thought, then realised whom he meant. "Oh, Percival, you _didn't_."

Percival grinned as a bright yellow taxicab pulled up to the dock. With the grace and agility of a dancer, a small person with jet-black hair hopped out excitedly, smiling that overbearingly familiar grin.

It was Anna.

...

The boat set off towards the open sea. Ralph stood on deck, intently watching the dock get smaller and smaller, eventually unable to see it. Behind him, he heard light footsteps and faintly recognised the scent of lavender perfume. He turned around. Anna was the first to speak.

"You look worried."

"Frankly, I am." Ralph turned uncomfortably back to his view of the horizon.

"Before you tell me why, let me guess. I've caused you some inconvenience." She cocked her head and smiled.

"Yes," he sighed. "I wish you hadn't come. Don't get me wrong. It's not because you're a girl, or that you might be high-maintenance or anything—"

"But I _wanted_ to come."

"Why?" He searched her eyes for a clue.

She nodded slowly, in deep thought. "Closure."

...

There was no crew on the boat. It was a smallish yacht that Ralph had borrowed from a cousin and kept in a small northern sea-port for this very occasion. So instead, the former islanders looked after themselves. They navigated their path by locating the North Star and the constellations around it, like sailors did in the days of old. They never veered from that path, and the weather remained serene and peaceful during their time at sea.

Finally, Jack spotted a faint speck in the distance while boredly steering the boat. He erupted into shrieks and exclamations of joy, leaving Roger to handle the wheel.

"Land! _Land!_ The island, Ralph! We're _here_!"

Awed faces appeared from below deck ad the familiar location drew nearer. Despite the burned, destroyed state they had last seen it in, the island seemed to have sprung back to life again immediately after their departure from it.

Once the boat was safely anchored and ashore, Jack leapt into the sand, eagerly soaking in the well-known tropical humidity. Robert, Maurice, and Roger followed close behind. Bounding with excited steps behind them came Percival, Stanley, Bill, Henry, the ever-curious Anna, an assortment of former littluns, and finally Ralph.

He deeply inhaled the salty, humid air and sighed, smiling. He looked around. No matter how real the photos and newscasts looked from his safe little apartment, Ralph realised that they all paled in comparison to the overwhelming reality of where he truly was. He sprawled out on the glimmering white sand and remained there, listening to the crash and pull of the waves. A few of the others had taken off their shoes and were timidly wading in the shallow water, as if afraid to disturb foreign terrain.

Jack had not been so shy. He splashed and dove and laughed, as if in an altered state of perception. When the adrenaline rush subsided, he collapsed next to Ralph and smiled.

"What's for dinner?"

That evening, on top of the mountain, a blazing fire went up with the help of Roger's cigarette lighter. A primitive spit was erected by Jack and Maurice, who had gone off hunting earlier in the day and found the ideal pig for supper. A few of the dinner guests were chattering excitedly.

The meat was excellent. The pig had been properly and mercifully killed, and cooked for just the right amount of time. Jack worked quickly and efficiently with his knife, distributing the meat evenly among those present.

Anna, however, was nowhere to be seen. Ralph's eyes scanned the group.

"Where's--?"

Percival shrugged nonchalantly.

...

Anna was busy exploring the woods. She looked up at the sky—the sun had nearly disappeared into the horizon. Clouds were beginning to gather on her left. All around her was silent, save for the blood pounding in her ears. She crouched down near a bush, curiously picking at the little buds on the end of each twig. Amused, she sat down and plucked one of them. It smelled sweetly fragrant.

Another noise sounded from behind her, the soft crunch of bare feet trodding upon new leaves. She turned around. It was Ralph.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she answered, standing up almost ashamedly.

"Oh." A silence. "What've you been doing?" he asked, looking around at the peaceful little corner of the jungle he did not seem to recognise.

Anna smiled and shrugged, but that answer did not look to be enough for Ralph. She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips in deep thought, then looked up bravely.

"There's a place I want you to show me…" She suddenly bit her lip to hold in tears. "Please take me to where that…thing…happened."

...

The bonfire on top of the mountain was beginning to burn out. Samneric, out of tradition, were sent to find more wood while Roger fanned the dying flame. Sam started down one side of the mountain, while Eric stopped and looked back pensively. He beckoned to his twin.

"Sam…"

"What?"

"Let's see if that thing's still up there."

"What thing?"

"The beast-thing—"

"You loon! It's probably—"

"—shhh!" Eric scrambled around to the other side of the mountain and made his way to the very top. Soon after, Sam could see him dejectedly walking back down. He grinned.

"Well?"

"It's gone."

"Told you."

...

Anna and Ralph walked side by side to the other end of the island. No hurricane or torrential storm had changed it. There still existed a low platform of hard grey rock emerging from a towering canopy of foliage. Anna seated herself beneath a palm tree and drew her knees up under her chin, almost protectively. Ralph wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt.

"Where do you want me to begin?"

Anna looked up and said quietly, "Well, what do you remember?"

Ralph stood there for a moment, sadly. Then, to the best of his ability, he began to re-enact the horrible scene.

"Well, Piggy and I—I told you about Piggy, right?—well, we got a bit worried about Jack's lot after they all walked out on us, so we decided to check on them, and make sure they weren't doing anything stupid." He grinned unhappily, then walked over to the center of the rock. "They'd started a big fire right here, and they were all dancing round. After we'd had a bit to eat, we—we joined them.

"Then Jack turned around and pointed at a—a thing coming out of the woods there, all bent and on his hands and knees. None of us knew what—who—it was, but we started stabbing at it just the same."

The clouds had grown thick by now, and they opened, releasing a gentle, steady rainfall. Ralph paused self-consciously, took a deep breath, and continued.

"There were screaming cries, and shouts, and pleas coming from every which way. There was something about a man on a hill. I—I don't quite remember. But then he—the thing—took off running, and fell off the edge there. We went after it—him—and…"

He trailed off. That's…all I really remember." He lowered his head and shuffled his feet, as if expecting an outburst of dramatic sobs from the small person by the tree.

But she was silent. She curled up even more tightly than before, her body softly shaking with quiet tears. Ralph sat next to her, biting his lip till he tasted blood. He could only produce two more words until he joined in her lamentation.

"I'm…sorry."

...

Shortly before dawn, the clouds began to scatter. The sun slowly rose up among them, bathing the island in a wash of purple and orange. On top of the mountain, several bedraggled young men lay asleep by the remains of the fire. On the other end of the island, Ralph slept restlessly and infrequently, waking up every so often to find Anna slumbering in her protective fetal position.

But when it was nearly light out, he awoke by himself. Anna was gone.

She had, in fact, gone for an innocent walk along the beach. Hers were the first visible footprints in the wet sand that day, leading nowhere in particular. That thought delighted Anna. Not the thought that she wasn't going anywhere, but that she'd left her mark on the island, at least until the tide came in again.

A glittering thing a few feet ahead caught her eye. It was a sea star that had been washed up—if it didn't get to the ocean again, it would dry out and die. Smiling compassionately, Anna picked up the little creature and gently tossed it back into the water with a _plop_. The ocean welcomed it. A wave broke and gathered around Anna's small feet. It was pleasantly cold.

She stepped deeper into the water and splashed it on her face, relieved to feel the wetness dripping from her face and hair. Smoothly and gracefully, without a thought, Anna dove into an oncoming wave, immersed in the glimmering blueness. For the first time in about twenty-one years, she was truly happy.

...

Roger was the first on the mountain to wake up. Noiselessly and quickly, he climbed down the rocky edge and crept along the neck of land to Castle Rock. At the very top of the fortress was a well-stocked supply of rocks he had played with as a young boy. He eagerly made his way to the top and sat for a while, gently picking a stone from the pile and turning it over in his hand.

Standing up, he could see the shoreline and a little patch of grass further from the beach. Directly beneath his feet was nothing but bare rock. An enigmatic grin crept across his pale, tight face as he remembered the catapult. And the rock—what a beauty it had been! As his happy childhood memory came back to him bit by bit, he drew his left arm back—after all, he was mainly left-handed—and threw the smooth little stone towards the horizon as far as it would go.

...

Anna emerged from the water drippingly wet and freezing, but joyful nonetheless. She started up the mountain in hopes that she could dry off in front of the fire. Her feet moved as if on air, carefully dodging thorny bushes and perilous rocks. When she reached the fire, it was burning steadily, but she was not alone.

Ralph and Percival were among those gathered. Jack was still asleep some feet away, and Roger had wandered off sometime around dawn. Ralph handed Anna a coconut shell of fresh water, which she downed eagerly.

"Feeling better?"

"Much. Thank you." She knelt down by Percival and warmed her hands in front of the fire. She proceeded to shake the sand and salt out of her fine black hair. Upon noticing that all eyes present were on her, Anna forced a shy little laugh and asked nobody in particular, "Er…could I have a few minutes to myself…if you don't mind?"

Suddenly aware of their unwanted and awkward presence, the others quickly shoved off, making inane, rambling excuses as they went. Percival hesitated a bit, then ambled down towards the beach as well.

Anna was wearing a long white tunic and blue linen trousers, which she presumed would dry quicker if she wasn't wearing them. Slowly and self-consciously, she managed to get herself out of the trousers when something stirred behind her.

Jack had woken up and was making his way towards the fire when suddenly his face turned the same shade as his hair.

"Oh. Err…sorry." He quickly turned away and started for the beach.

"No, it's fine, really—you can stay if you want—"

But Jack did not hear her. He was already halfway down the mountain.

...

Jack was preoccupied chastising himself for acting like a bloody fool when he lost his balance and tripped over a mess of creepers.

_I definitely did not need that,_ he thought as he dusted himself off. To make his embarrassment worse, he heard laughter somewhere behind him.

He whirled around angrily to find Ralph stifling a chuckle from behind a palm tree, his blue-grey eyes glittering with wicked delight. Jack scrambled to his feet, both angered and gladdened by his friend's unexpected presence. Ralph broke out into a sprint, with Jack close on his heels.

Both of them were boys again; the thrill of the chase returned. At times it was unclear who was chasing whom. All they knew was to run faster. Jack's indignity turned to fierce, competitive glee.

Ralph started to slow down. Was he losing strength? Would he eventually stop and let Jack win? What was there to win anyway? As Jack's head filled with disconnected, unfamiliar bits of thought, the two grown boys continued their chase until they were both collapsed on the beach, laughing and panting for breath.

"That was a lot of fun," said Ralph exhaustedly.

Jack's adrenaline had not subsided so quickly. "Yeah—I almost had you that time!"

Ralph looked over at his friend with a twinge of suspicion. _Did he really?_

_..._

The end of the week had come too soon. Even Ralph was sad to leave at that point. During his time there, he was reminded of the old days, when they were all convinced it was a good island. Roger was so reluctant to leave, he hoarded his precious rock collection to bring back to England.

Ralph mused upon Roger's weird behaviour as he leaned over the edge of the boat. Slowly but surely, Samneric steered the boat away from the island. Ralph looked up at the inky black sky. It was spangled with bright stars, as it usually was on warm tropical nights like these. The open sea reflected every star very clearly, and Ralph swore he saw one wink at him when he looked up to see Jack standing beside him.

"You know, I'm almost glad we're going home," said Jack.

"How come?" Ralph inquired.

"I don't know—I started to feel a little odd while I was hunting pigs back there. Even when I was chasing you that time. Almost like a real hunter again. I scared myself sometimes—like I was turning into a savage or something."

"To tell the truth, you scared me too!" Ralph laughed. "Promise you won't do that again?"

Jack laughed along. "I promise."

...

Anna was in her small cabin admiring the view from her window when a knock came to her door.

"Come in."

It was Percival. "Hi—thought you might need some company."

"Sure." She grinned. "Have you seen the view? It's gorgeous."

He moved towards the window and stood beside her, perhaps a bit too close for a friendly acquaintance to stand. They remained there for quite a long time, entranced, watching the bright and distant constellations set the ocean aglow.


End file.
